Tracey Davis Drabbles
by Pen Name FTW
Summary: A series of drabbles revolving around Tracey Davis. Not connected, and featuring various genres and characters. 1) Theodore, 2) Harry, 3) Daphne, 4) Higgs, 5) Blaise, 6) Snape. Open-ended.
1. Theodore Nott- The Only Exception

**Disclaimer: **Characters you recognize do not belong to me. The world of HP belongs to J. K. Rowling. Songs at the beginning of each chapter are by the artist listed under them.

**A/n: **A series of drabbles revolving around Tracey Davis. Not connected, and featuring various Genre's and characters. Most probable being Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter and Snape. All of them inspired by songs, going from most played and on down.

**Prompt:** Early Morning (#245)

"_I've got a tight grip on reality,  
But I can't let go of what's in front of me here.  
I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up.  
Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream."_

_(Paramore, The Only Exception)_

Slate-green eyes were wide open, staring up at noble features, relaxed with sleep. They took in the sandy blonde hair, that fell softly against very pale, long but somehow marginally handsome features. Thick, but quite pale lashes, touched against soft skin, their lids hiding grey eyes.

Long arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her loosely. Like the boy she rested with in the hollow, dark manor, they were very lean, and deceptively strong.

For a moment as she took in his features, she wondered that the boy who stooped, had grown so beautifully. But then... she'd always found something about him fascinating, something she'd never been able to put her finger on... and unlike the rest of the girls, she hadn't exactly been surprised by his metamorphoses from moth, to something more...

Of course, then Daphne Greengrass, the Miss bloody Hogwarts or Miss Wizarding UK, had swept him up.

Tracey felt her heart throb as she rested against the nineteen year old boy, wondering what she was doing there. What she was thinking when she'd allowed herself to be carted off the Nott Ancestral Home.

When she'd found him the previous night in the Leaky Cauldron, he'd been a hideous, drunken wreck; perhaps that was the reason, that she simply couldn't stand to see him in so many little pieces. But then, war had that affect on people, perhaps on some more than others.

The war hadn't been easy on Slytherins, even those who had chosen to abstain from fighting, no matter what is that the world thought. It hadn't been easy on Theodore, who despite no taking part of the final battle, had not escaped the war without his fair share of scars.

Daphne hadn't survived it at all. That was the reason it was Tracey in his arms, and not the blond bombshell.

She could feel tears sprouting in her eyes.

_Merlin_, she thought to herself. Somehow she'd imagined that two years away from him would remove the hideous pain that it was to know that between herself and Daphne, he'd chosen Daphne.

Daphne, to many, was the obvious choice. Her looks were perfect. And to top it off, a shining personality. And while not overly friendly or kind, she wasn't unnecessarily cruel. Just a bit standoffish.

For her part, Tracey had always been rather invisible. She liked it that way. It invited a lot less trouble if you simply blended in, especially when you were a half-blood whose father was an Auror and whose mother was muggle-born, at least when you were a Slytherin.

_Don't be his bloody consolation prize, _Tracey told herself angrily as she slowly pried the arms from around her and raised herself up. The boy hardly stirred. She imagined it was the drunken stupor that had rendered him unconscious that allowed this.

As she slowly rose from the bed, bright, orange-tinged, sunlight beginning to peak through the curtains, she felt her heart go out to the slender young man.

The previous night was far from a dream, she knew, pulling on her boots. She'd spent a greater portion of the night, trying to get Theodore through his grief of losing his abusive father who he hated but still irrationally wanted approval of as simply himself, and losing the blonde ray of sunshine that somehow had made life bearable for him.

As she pulled on the black cloak that had been discarded at the foot of the bed and pulled out her wand, she turned to give one last look to the passed out boy. His peaceful features, made her heart twinge at the way his expression was so tortured the previous night.

"_Will you still be here, when the sun's up?" the boy slurred, wrapping his arms tight around Tracey and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She knew from how slowly his words came, how softly they were spoken, that he was on the brink of sleep. _

_Tracey hesitated a long time. She didn't want to lie to him, though she'd spent years lying to herself and everyone that she didn't care about Theodore, that it hadn't hurt when he'd started dating Daphne. _

_Instead, Tracey merely raked her fingers through his very fine, and astonishingly soft hair. She placed a kiss on his forehead and told him to go to sleep, that she'd look after him. _

"_Please Trace... don't leave me, I couldn't bear it again..." he muttered, finally drifting off, leaving a trace of wetness on her neck. _

She hadn't been a good friend to him in the last four or more years. As much as she wanted to be different from her house-mates, she hadn't been. She'd made herself blend in when it suited her, instead of speaking her mind. And when it became imperative that she save herself from more pain, she'd left the country and left Theodore to face his own demons and ghost, to deal alone with his grief, cause she couldn't stand living for him anymore.

Stepping further back, her cloak and dark hair allowing her to blend with the darkness of the room, she whispered a quiet goodbye to Theo as a tear trekked down her cheek.

She simply couldn't invite him back into her life. She couldn't be his life-saver, when she was still drowning herself. And with one last look, she dissaparated with a soft pop.

_**~Fin~**_


	2. Harry, Snape- Creep

**A/n:** I totally forgot to mention this, but each prompt for this collection, is from "The If You Dare Challenge".

**Warning:** This piece turned out a little darker than expected. So I think this piece should be rated M, though there are no graphic descriptions. Some implied, past dub-con.

**Prompt:** It Will Be Years (#81)

**Characters:** Snape, Harry Potter

* * *

"_I don't care if it hurts, I want to have control  
I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul  
I want you to notice when I'm not around  
You're so f***ing special  
I wish I was special."_

_(Radiohead, Creep)_

It was strange standing inside the castle again. Strange to feel the peace and quiet. Even the air was stagnant and still, the heat of summer barely held at bay by the cool stones of the castle.

If she closed her eyes for just a moment, it was like she was back in that long night that didn't ever seem to end. She could remember the exhaustion of her body, as the sun finally made it's presence known after a short reprieve in battle in which they had gathered the dead and injured.

There had been so much loss, so much destruction.

The Great Hall... that was where the bodies had been laid.

Staring at the wall, with names etched into it for those who'd died protecting the castle, the light... fighting to protect whatever was left that was good and decent... she wondered if she'd been one of those who'd died, if anyone would have known to add her name to this memorial. Or if like so many others, it'd be assumed because of her House, that she'd been fighting alongside the Death Eaters.

She could feel her eyes prickling as she raised a finger, and touched one of the names etched there.

There had been so much controversy surrounding this figure... so much debate about whether or not he should be honored.

Tracey wasn't sure herself how she felt. Her head was still such a mess, even these ten years after that fateful year when all the world had gone through hell. And at twenty-seven, she was no closer to figuring out whether or not what she felt was right or wrong.

_He_ saved her.

She'd been a half-blood on the run because she couldn't trace her lineage... her father was a muggle, her mother was a muggle-born witch.

She'd been traveling, trying to make her way out of the UK after her parents had been murdered and Tracey had barely been able to make it out of the house. She was on the move, with nothing but the clothes on her back and her wand. She wasn't even sure how she'd made it those first four months, only that it took a lot of theft and manipulating of muggles.

Even all these years later, she felt guilty and sick and the thought of turning her wand on muggles. Using tactics not unalike the very people she was running from. Sure she didn't hurt or kill anyone, but she'd used a lot of confunding charms, not to mention memory charms. And she stole money, not to mention transports.

She'd been so close to getting off the bloody Island, when she'd been caught by snatchers.

She wasn't sure why, she thought perhaps it was because she was a Slytherin, but instead of being taken to the Ministry she'd been taken to Malfoy Manor.

Seeing the Dark Lord, was not something she'd ever anticipated in her entire life, and it was one of the most frightening experiences in her young life. At the time, she was badly dehydrated, and for that she was grateful, as she had nothing in her bladder to embarrass her.

The pain she felt that evening, was not unlike anything she'd ever felt before. It was something that she would never forget.

Death would have been a reprieve.

But he'd been there. He'd saved her, claiming her as a pet, and he took her away.

Tracey hadn't been sure what she'd expected, but even then, even after the rumors she'd heard, she'd had faith in her ex- Head of House. Because since her first year, he'd always looked after every single one of his Slytherins. And she was one of his.

He took her to Hogwarts, and though life in Hogwarts was hell, it was better than the alternative. And Snape... Snape kept her safe from the Carrows.

He never touched her... not until she let him. Tracey wasn't quite sure why she let him in. Perhaps it was gratitude. Perhaps it was simply because as a Slytherin, one learned that no favor was given for free... and she didn't like being in anyone's debt.

Somehow, giving her body to a man who, though much older than her, had protected her... didn't seem to steep a price for his saving her life. And Snape... she'd grown to care for him, and she thought sometimes she saw a man threatened to be crippled by his loneliness.

He was in her heart now. And no matter how much time, she could not forget him. She obsessed about him quietly, in the secret recesses of her solitude and mind.

The mind Healer she was forced into seeing told her that she was simply suffering from what muggles termed Stockholm Syndrome. But somehow, she couldn't believe it.

Footsteps, brought her out of her thoughts. It was with a start that she realized that her cheeks were wet.

Back still turned to who was approaching, she hastily retracted her hand and wiped at her cheeks, hoping he hadn't seen.

"Are you okay?" his tone was soothing, and quiet, but carried that tone of worry that made her heart ache.

She'd been dating Harry now, going on three years. And as much as she loved him, she couldn't help thinking that it was his fault that she sometimes hated herself so much. That it was his kindness, and utter perfection, that made her feel like she was crawling inside her skin. Made her feel vile for the things she'd had to do.

By comparison, she was so tainted, and she wasn't even the one that carried a piece of Voldemort's soul inside her.

To make matters worse, it was Harry's mother who help up all the space that existed in Snape's heart. That cold, dark, small and broken thing in his chest, hadn't had room for anyone else. And Tracey, Tracey had absorbed his frustrations, his crushing loneliness... all in his bed. For months.

Turning to look at the boy who's emerald green eyes, out-shined her own jade-green eyes, she couldn't help smiling. It had to be one of those ironies of life.

She'd pined for Snape's love, but she'd never been special enough to even graze his reclusive heart. And now... she had the wizarding worlds most eligible bachelor at her side. And still... this boy with the golden heart couldn't crack the hard, surface of her own twisted heart.

But... there were some days when she felt better. And only ever around Harry.

"I don't know how you convinced me to come here," Tracey replied offering Harry a crooked smile before slithering her arms around his waist and burying her face in the crook of his neck. Immediately she felt a strong pair of arms wrap protectively around her.

Tracey felt her heart clench, knowing how much Harry wanted to protect her. How much he wanted to heal every part of her.

"The healer said it might help," Harry merely stated, before pressing a kiss on top of her wavy, auburn locks.

For a while, Tracey said nothing. Merely inhaled Harry's comforting scent, her eyes looking in askance at the memorial.

"He saved me..." she finally whispered, weaving her fingers into the front of Harry's robes.

It was hard to talk about this chapter in her life, especially with Harry. Harry felt that Snape had abused his power over her, and it conflicted so with his remorse towards a man who, though he'd hated him, had spent his life trying so damn hard to save him; sacrificed so much for _him_. "If he hadn't... Voldemort would have killed me the night I was captured."

Harry didn't say anything, merely tightened his arms around her.

Everyone kept trying to tell her that she was merely rationalizing a difficult period in her life, and the choices she'd been forced to make. That she was in a sense, protecting herself by making excuses... by lying to herself that it was her choice, but _she_ was the one that lived through it.

"I thought, I could save him too... I owed him that," Tracey whispered, feeling her throat tightening as she recalled how utterly she had failed.

She'd been there when they'd brought his body in. Seen how pale he was in death, saw the garish opening in his neck where Voldemort's damn snake had bitten him.

"You didn't owe him anything," Harry stated with conviction, his hold on her tightening.

"I had a crush on him... since first year," Tracey admitted to Harry out loud causing the man holding her to stiffen. "I didn't grow out of it as I expected... I liked other people, dated other boys... but he was always there. It never really faded."

Pulling away so she could look into Harry's eyes, she stared at the Gryffindor she'd somehow allowed into her life. She needed to look him in the eyes when she made her confession.

"_I_ seduced him," Tracey stated, watching at the hurt that flashed behind rounded glass. "He was so lonely... he was bound to cave."

Silence reigned between the couple for a few moments and Tracey could feel fear rear up inside her. For a moment, she wanted to close her eyes, but couldn't because she was afraid what she'd see when they were shut.

She felt that this was the moment she was waiting so long for. For Harry to realize how far beneath him she was. When he realized he could do so much better, perhaps even get back to his ex-Gryffindor, his very own red-head lion.

"Do you hate me?" Tracey whispered, her voice small and almost childish.

Harry shook his head, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"That doesn't change anything, Trace. Much less how I feel about you. I love you, and I'll stand by you as long as you'll have me," Harry told her, his voice strong with conviction.

Melting once more into his embrace, letting the feeling of love wash over her, Tracey couldn't help the tears that sprouted in her eyes.

"You're too good for me, Harry," Tracey mumbled, curling into his chest. Shutting her eyes as she allowed herself to be surrounded by him, be soothed by his warmth. "I love you..." she whispered, thinking that for the time being, at least some of the weight had lifted.

**~FIN~**

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	3. Daphne, Romilda- Love the Way You Lie

**Characters:** Daphne Greengrass, Romilda Vane.

**Warning:** Rated M for some adult themes. Femslash implied. Some BDSM themes involved.

**Prompt:** The Cold War (#124)

* * *

"_Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems.  
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano,  
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though."_

_(Eminem, Love The Way You Lie)_

"What the hell are you doing here, Daphne?" are the first words out of her mouth as she spots the girl with strawberry-blonde curls as she emerges from the hearth.

"I'm just wondering when, if ever, you plan to emerge from your little hole, or talk to me. I am, after all, your girlfriend," the posh girl replies with a roll of her cornflower-blue eyes as she removed the soot from her expensive robes with an efficient flick of her wrist.

Tracey doesn't bother to reward the blonde with a second glance as she continues to read her novel, her socked foot all the while, stroking through the fur of the Irish Wolfhound stretched out before her armchair.

Daphne pouts at the fact that she is being ignored by the girl with shockingly dark, red hair; a trademark of her blood-line. It was one of the first things that had drawn Daphne to the aloof, quiet girl. She'd simply never seen that shade of red before; that it looked almost impossible for it to happen naturally.

Tracey's hair was the color of red velvet cake, and it fell in perfectly straight, silky plaits to just beneath her shoulder blades.

"Tracey, I haven't seen or heard from you in two weeks! Are you freezing me out? Because I've heard that both Blaise and Theodore have seen you!" Daphne stated in irritation, her voice rising enough so that the wolfhound raised its head and looked at her with it's intelligent eyes.

For a moment, she smacks her teeth in distasted at the large beast. She'd never much cared for animals... they were simply so dirty. And yet... Tracey, while coming from a rich family, she'd never quite carried herself with the feminine refinement of her status.

She had a grand total of four of these large, slender dogs and she wasn't the least concerned with spending hours out on the ground of her family's extensive grounds, simply in the company of her dogs.

"Always with the dramatics," Tracey sighed in exasperation, her eyes slowly looking up to the stunning girl, wondering why she'd ever become friends, much less consented to dating the girl before her. Her jade-green eyes narrowed on the blue-eyed girl with an hour-glass figured, and she felt her possessive anger flicker inside her like flames in her veins.

For a moment, Daphne flinched slightly at the look in Tracey's eyes. While Tracey was usually quiet, and very difficult to anger, she did reach a point, eventually, when she simply exploded.

Daphne tried to ignore the shiver that coursed up her spine. She was equal measures of fear and excitement.

Sometimes it made her wonder if something was wrong with her. She wondered if perhaps, she pushed Tracey so, simply to get a reaction from the girl who could be as cold as a winter storm.

_And they call _me_ the ice queen_, Daphne sneered mentally.

"You _have_ been avoiding me," Daphne pointed out, trying to keep her tones level. It wasn't really the first time. Their entire relationship was a precarious balance between friendship, passionate nights, and cold wars where each girl waited to see who would break first.

"I've been taking a cooling period," Tracey replied, getting fluidly to her feet, avoiding stepping on her dog. She then proceeded to put the book away on one of the shelves of the study she'd commandeered for herself ever since she was a small child. "And it isn't over yet, so you can show yourself out."

"Tracey," Daphne whined in annoyance to be dismissed so easily.

"Daphne, if you don't get the hell out of my presence, I won't be held accountable for losing my temper," Tracey stated in very firm tones that left little room to argue.

Daphne paused for a moment, uncertain what to do. To retreat now wounded her pride too much. But her mind started to wonder about what she'd been up to before Tracey had gone into hiding, and what she might have done to piss off the now trembling girl.

The only thing her mind could draw up was Tori and Draco's engagement party.

_Did I..._ she started to wonder if she'd committed another one of her indiscretions and found herself blushing when she realized she _had_ a little too much wine, and had perhaps ended up making out with Lucius Malfoy in one of the many studies of Malfoy Manor.

_But how could Tracey possibly have heard about that?_ Daphne wondered.

Theodore and Blaise were both present, and both boys were almost as loyal to Tracey, as the girl's four dogs.

For a moment, she felt her heart breaking as she watched the red-head who looked close to snapping as she continued to face away from Daphne.

It was hardly the first time she'd cheated on Tracey. But they more or less had an... unspoken arrangement regarding their affairs. Unfortunately, Tracey was far more discreet, as Daphne hadn't ever heard of any of Tracey's other lovers. Perhaps because Daphne had broader appetites, where Tracey preferred women alone.

"Very well, Tracey," Daphne stated finally, unable to help the sudden fear. Moving towards the hearth, she paused before reaching the mahogany box that contained floo powder. Biting on her full, bottom lip, she paused. "You're not..."

As if knowing what she wanted to ask, Tracey interrupted her. "I have no intention of breaking up with you, Daph. Even if you can't follow the rules to the letter."

Daphne felt herself flush in embarrassment, but found herself to happy that she hadn't ruined her relationship with the girl she loved.

"I'll see you then?" Daphne stated, her tone as cavalier as she could manage while her heart was racing as it was.

"No... _I'll_ see _you_. And no sooner," Tracey replied steely. Daphne huffed, but took the instruction, turning to go back the way she came.

For a few more moments, Tracey stood, hands clenching the desk while she closed her eyes and tried to get over what it was that she was feeling. Honestly, she wasn't sure why she continued to stay with Daphne. Her possessive streak didn't make a woman with such varied needs, ideal, especially as she hatted to show such a trait, as it revealed a little too much of her heart, which made her uncomfortable.

But then... she'd known Daphne since she was eleven. And somehow the girl who was everything Tracey wasn't, had made her way into Tracey's reclusive heart.

Daphne enjoyed her lovers, but she'd never form an attachment to them. For the girl with strawberry-blonde curls, it was merely about her pleasure.

For Tracey... she could do without the other girls she regularly took to bed; they were only around so that the arrangement wouldn't be so one-sided, so Tracey could deal with her bruised ego; and sometimes because there were simply games she would play with them, that she didn't want to play with Daphne.

Which reminded her...

Pulling her wand from the pocket of her sweater, she turned around and pointed to the dog which began to change from its position from where it was watching her to a scantily clad witch on her knees with a saucy smirk on her face. Tracey stalked over, her gaze trained on the younger witch on her knees wearing nothing more than black lace underwear and bra.

"Why do you keep her around?" Romilda asked, her tone snooty as Tracey stood over her.

"I've known Daphne a long time, and we play a different game," Tracey replied, grabbing a fistful of dark hair at the base of Romilda's neck before tugging on it roughly so that Romilda exposed her neck to Tracey who ran the tip of her wand along the girl's olive skin.

"I think you love her," Romilda stated, once more speaking out of turn, her full lips set in a line as she looked up at Tracey with dark and challenging eyes.

Tracey clenched her jaw, her fist tightening and pulling harder on Romilda's hair, causing the dark-haired girl to grunt.

"My sentiments are not your concern. Nor is my relationship with Daphne," Tracey stated as she glared down at the girl whom she'd yet to break. Romilda's pride, arrogance, vanity and bossiness made her quite the challenge and sometimes, Tracey wondered if the girl was even worth all the trouble.

But then... Romilda wasn't a weak girl. She wasn't delicate. Which made her ideal to take her frustrations out on, even if the girl was trying to supplant Daphne and was sure to cause trouble. But Tracey felt confident that she could handle Romilda, and that Daphne's confidence could not be swayed by the likes of a mere Gryffindor.

"Now, lets see about your punishment for speaking out of turn," Tracey smirked darkly.

**~FIN~**

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	4. Terence Higgs- Soft Shock

**Characters:** Terence Higgs

**Prompt:** Seeking (#70)

* * *

"_Still it's a sharp shock, to your soft side.  
Summer moon, catch your shut eye.  
In your room, in my room  
In your room, in my room."_

_(Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Soft Shock)_

Tracey knew her lips were moving, but she no longer knew what she was talking about.

She was far too distracted by studying and taking in the man opposite her to really care about her day at the Ministry.

It didn't really matter anyway. It wasn't as though he was listening to a word she was saying. He was just nodding his handsome, dark-blonde, seeker head to the sound of her voice. Meanwhile, he thought the flicker of his light brown eyes to their waitress was subtle.

Tracey was surprised at the sting she felt at this. More surprised that the sensation of pain was quite so acute, and that every second she spent dwelling on it, made her eyes prickle with tears.

So instead, she contended herself with mindless babbling, filling up the silence while she took in the boy opposite of her.

He was so handsome, her was almost surreal. And in spite of being a first class seeker, he was very smart, and had more than Quidditch on his mind.

And he was sweet. Sweeter than any guy she'd ever been with before.

Had she really thought that she could keep her heart locked away from this boy?

Feeling her throat constrict, she averted her gaze, reaching for her wine glass on the table. The silence she left in her wake as she took a sip from her glass, was terribly crushing to her ears, in spite of Terence's hummed acquiescence as he didn't seem to realize that she'd stopped talking.

Looking up, at his still nodding head, Tracey felt anger flush hotly through her. For a moment, she looked away and fanned herself, commenting that it was a very hot summer all the while wishing that the night would just end so that she could crawl into bed with a bottle of Firewhiskey and later turn up at Blaise's flat drunk out of her mind so that she could cry to her gay friend while he told her, 'I told you so'.

_Blaise is such a bitch_, Tracey thought as she drained her glass of wine, which sent her mind spinning.

Once more turning her grey-green eyes to the Quidditch player before her, Tracey narrowed her gaze on the boy as he was staring very hard at something over her shoulder.

Turning around, Tracey felt her anger kick it up a few extra notches as she found herself staring at the waitresses deep cleavage as she bent to clean the table behind them.

Turning around so that her deep red hair fanned slightly about her, Tracey stood slamming her glass down on the table. Before she really thought about what she was doing, she picked up Terence's glass of wine, and flung it at his face.

"Good night, Higgs," she stated as she pulled out her wand from her robes pocket as he sputtered and asked her what she'd done that for. However, she apparated away without another word her mind already on a set course for the bottle of Firewhiskey she kept in her study.

**~END~**

I'd really appreaciate hearing from anybody reading this. Like.. any thoughts? Suggestions? So please review.


	5. Blaise Zabini- Sparks

**Prompt:** Starry Night (#298)

* * *

"_My heart is yours,  
It's you that I hold on to,  
That's what I do"_

_(Coldplay, Sparks)_

Stars littered the sky.

Laying on her back, she stared overhead at the beauty of the glittering diamonds overhead, against a backdrop of black velvet.

This was nice, she thought absently, listening to his voice as he spoke, perhaps more words than anyone had ever heard him utter before. His voice was pleasantly deep, and without the inflection of arrogance, it was rather nice.

In the daylight, he'd never be like this. After all, he had a persona to keep up. But with her, here in the astonomy tower, he was hers, and that's all that really mattered.

She didn't really care that because she was a half-blood, he'd never address or even look at her in public. She knew she should care, that she should be offended. But... these secret moments that they shared, where he let down all his walls, they were too perfect to trade in for anything.

XX

Tracey was a quiet girl; observant and very smart, but she didn't show it off like that Granger girl.

She was beautiful, in a way that wasn't obvious like the Greengrass girls. But to him, from her wavy auburn hair that reached a few inches past her shoulders, to her pale green eyes, she was the embodiment of beauty.

Turning to look at her, finally lapsing into silence, he stared at the girl he could be himself with.

Staring at her profile, he felt an ache in his chest, knowing that he wasn't good enough for her. But he was selfish enough to take whatever it was she was willing to give, even if he didn't deserve it.

And for as long as he lived, he didn't think there'd be anyone else who could conquer his heart. It only had space for Tracey Davis.

**~End~**

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	6. Snape, Theodore- Fade Into You

**Characters: **Snape, Theodore Nott.

**Prompt:** Death's Doorstep (#69)

* * *

"_I look to you and I see nothing  
I look to you to see the truth  
You live your life  
You go in shadows."_

_(Mazzy Star, Fade Into You)_

She used to have a crush on him, Tracey thought as she lay on the ground, panting for breath, sweat soaking her skin. It was strange, to remember something like that at a time like this. Strange, the things that came to mind when all your nerves were firing pain signals to the brain like machine gun.

She was on her side, fingers twisting and attempting to grasp the floorboards beneath her as she looked through a veil of her sweaty hair at one of the many masked figures standing over her. Thus far, he hadn't participated. He'd only been standing by, watching, never saying a word, but not yet looking away.

That's how she knew him. It was those eyes. Black as anything she'd ever seen, and deeper then any water well. They were bottomless pits of nothing... but sometimes she thought she'd seen them flicker. Saw human emotion dwelling in the darkness.

"We have an itty wittle, brave one," Bellatrix Lestrange mocked, her voice imitating baby talk.

Tracey's eyes didn't flicker from where they were locked on the only person she could've found some comfort in, if he'd been what she'd thought he was. She continued to breathe, setting her jaw against the moans of pains that threatened to be released as her nerves continued to flicker with pain, making her body twitch now and then.

"You're going to die here," a high pitched and creepy voice called from somewhere beyond all the masks. It sent a shiver down her spine.

Death. They were going to kill her.

Tears filled her eyes, but it wasn't so much from fear. At this point she felt, death would be a relief. She didn't know how many times or for how long she'd been put under the Cruciatus. But each time, felt like an eternity. And there were times she thought, she was either burning in the eternal fires of hell, or she was losing her damn mind.

Pushing off from the ground, she rose very shakily onto her elbows.

However, she didn't get any further when she found herself on her back once more, her entire body violently convulsing. Once more, she felt the greatest pain in her seventeen years. Somewhere, her mind disjointedly perceived that someone was screaming. A sound so horrifying, she was sure that it would forever haunt her dreams.

Tracey still found herself screaming when the pain stopped. It was only a few seconds after that she stopped, her throat dray and scratchy.

Moaning, she once more managed to roll onto her side though her entire body was rioting against her direction. She could taste the metallic flavor of blood in her mouth. The sound of cruel laughter, flitted into her ears. Wrenching her eyes open, through her bleary gaze, she sought out the familiar black eyes of her Head of House unsure why she felt the need to maintain eye-contact.

Perhaps it was her only way to accuse him. To blame him for breaking his unspoken promise to protect his students. For not being the man, she thought he was.

For making her doubt her ability to judge whether someone was good or not.

"Any last words?" someone asked. She didn't know who, but it didn't really matter.

Tracey closed her eyes as her heart began to race. She could feel hot moisture, leaking over the bridge of her nose and racing over one of her temples.

Her mind drifted somewhere far away. And for a few seconds, she didn't feel her body's pain, or her fear. Not in this place that was sunny and warm. Not when Theo was sitting before him, a small weary smile on his pale face, his grey eyes looking at her in a way that no one had ever looked at her before.

A smile lifted her lips.

Her eyes fluttering open, they immediately locked on Snape.

"I love Theo," she admitted aloud, for the first time, her voice small and very hoarse. Cruel laughter again, as she looked beseechingly at Snape.

She felt relief wash over her, as she saw his miniscule nod. Closing her eyes as she saw a flash of green, she focused on Theodore Nott, happy that she'd at least known him.

**~End~**


End file.
